My feet
It's hard being Bipolar. You never know if the feelings you are feeling are actually real or if they are some combination of synapses in your brain that are causing to feel the way that you do.
Maybe that's why I like blogging. I can get out all of my thoughts and ideas onto the screen and then I feel better. I see it there, in black and white, and my world makes a little more sense.
When I was a teenager I wrote poetry all the time. I think that helped me make sense of my world as well. Another thing about Bipolar is that I don't know if I've always had it, but it's laid dormant or if I just developed it. Probably I was at a greater risk since my Dad had Depression, my Aunt had Depression and my twin sister has Dysthymia (a milder, longer form of depression).
One thing I know for sure- although I don't know if it's related to being bipolar or not- is that I'm very sensitive to how others are doing. This made me the peace maker growing up- I tried to make everyone happy. I still really care about what other people think of me and also how other people are feeling.
Of late my extended family has had some struggles. I hate that.
It's keeping me up at night, worried. That and a few other things. I don't even see these people on a daily basis. All I know is that I care about them and I don't want them to be hurting.
Loss. I don't know what to say. These past two posts have been heavy. Hopefully, Monday will bring some JOY!
This is my blog. My name is Megan A.
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